O' Death
by Chibi-Chan71
Summary: Harry was betrayed my the ministry in the most horrible way. But now, with Lucifer freed, Castiel is running out of options. In desperation He decides to save and restore the one being that can help him win this war. The master of death himself. H/C
1. O' Death

**CHAPTER ONE.**

Azkaban was a nasty place.

Cold, dark, wet, and disgusting. The beach was covered with slimy mold and seaweed. The air was both humid and stagnant at the same time. None of the walls had ever been cleaned. At least not as the sea salt stains on all of the stone walls showed.

And then there was the case of the newly returned Dementors. Beings that could chill the soul from the inside out. And the dullest, dimmest of grays for sunlight. It was the only lighting, if you could even call it that.

It was a dirty, nasty, horrible place. But that was where Harry was being kept. For now, at least. In a gray cell with a black tank and an overly large pair of black pants to cover him. The room was a bit bigger then most, but it was just as bad. Little or nothing lay inside it besides the man himself. He was seated with his legs folded in front of him, his arms wrapped around his knees, his intense green eyes staring at the rusted door.

He was alone, covered in sea mist and dirt, chilled to the bone. Left with nothing but his thoughts. Harry would have traded the tiny, over-stuffed cupboard under the stairs for this cell any day. As least it was dry and he had the spiders for company.

He had been locked away after the Final Battle. The Light side had won, but evil still had its hand to play. Not to mention, people from almost every level of the government wanted him out of their way. So he was jailed for being a traitor and deserting England in times of war, after being dragged right out of bed from Gryffindor tower where he was sleeping after the Battle of Hogwarts.

That part had been the cruelest. For just those few hours, he had been free. Free of Voldemort. Free from the weight of the prophecy, free of pain and fate itself. He had a chance to heal at last. Those few hours after the war were bliss. Bliss that was quickly ripped away from him when he was ripped out of bed.

He was now awaiting trail. Even though he met no lawyers, or had yet to see any official papers. He had never gotten a chance to review his rights or come up with a defense for himself. That was how he knew he was done for. The Ministry wouldn't be holding a real trail, of course. They would be holding a performance. Then they would lock him up and toss away the keys.

Harry continued staring at the rusted door, lost in thoughts as he sat there. Waiting for the men to come, waiting for the mock trail to happen. Waiting for his life to end. Waiting to be punished by the very people he saved. Waiting. Silently. Still wet. Still cold. Still alone. Holding no hope for himself or for wizarding England. Nope, none at all. Azkaban had sucked every last bit of it out of him.

He would only have to wait for two more weeks. And now he was beginning to lose his mind. He had been clinging to fact that he was innocent like a lifeline, but it was being stretched way too thin. He may not have been the most adjusted person on the planet, but he knew what was sane and what wasn't, and he knew he was fatally close to crossing that line. Thank God, the piece of Voldemort's soul had already been removed, or he was sure he would be far gone by now.

Then, it happened. A group of Aurors had arrived and walked into his cell. All carrying heavy chains. Some seem shocked that he still had a grip on reality. Others just glared at him.

"Harry Potter - We are here to inform you that you have been sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss. It is to be administered immediately, and then you will spend the rest of your time in a ward at St. Mungos…"

Harry just stared at the man and slowly gave him the coldest and cruelest of glares. Snape, bless his brave, parted soul, would have been proud of it.

"What? No mock trail? Straight to the gallows, eh?" Harry said, realising that he knew none of the men in front of him. It was obvious that was why they were sent. These men didn't care about Harry when he lived, so they wouldn't give a damn about him when he died. The guard standing in front only snickered at him.

"A trial? No, no, no. You've got too many fans and too many supporters." The man explained. And it was then that Harry looked down at his outfit and realized he wasn't really a guard at all. His robes were of the same make, but of a higher quality and more decorated. A Ministry official, at least.

"On what charges am I being sentenced? You can tell me that at least, can't you?"

"For surviving." The man spat, his eyes burning into Harry's. It was obvious he wanted to see him suffer.

Harry just looked at him and glared. Another array of dots connected.

"One of Voldemort's bitches then, I assume?" Harry said, and the man froze.

"How DARE you…" The man started, with a pureblood haughtiness that proved Harry right.

"Tell me, how did you manage to escape getting caught? Bribes? Hide-and-go-cower?"

"Says the walking dead-man…" The official growled, as he motioned to the guards. All of them stepped forward and started locking the restraints on his arms, legs, waist and ankles. They even wrapped the links around him a few times.

"You should have known better, Potter. Even after killing the Dark Lord, you should have known that his loyal followers would see to your death." The man said.

"You'll be found out, you know." Harry said.

"Some of us, yes. But not all. But don't fret over that. You'll be a souless vegetable by then. And none of your little friends will even know about it. Until it's too late." The man then stepped off to the side, as a Dementor glided into the room.

Harry then realized the chains weren't there to help transport him. They were there to keep him still. He didn't think that he would be kissed by a Dementor. Not after he'd killed Voldemort, at least... When Voldemort was alive, yes. One of the top ways he thought he'd go, actually. Harry looked at the Dementor silently. If he was going, he was going out with his head up.

"Any last words, Potter? I'll make sure it makes the front page."

"Yes" Harry said, turning back to the man, a look of pure hate on his face. "I never betrayed the Wizarding World. It betrayed me."

"How heroic" The man spat coldly, then turned stiffly to the Dementor. "Do it."

It immediately swooped down, right in front of Harry and opened it's horrible mouth. He heard it take a large breath.

He had expected it to be over in a second. It wasn't.

The Dementor's mouth wasn't like a mouth at all. It was more like am ice-cold black hole. The small intake of breath soon became a bone-chilling suction of air that encompassed Harry's entire body. Harry's body instinctively tried to fight it off. He tried turning away, shaking, pulling, tugging, struggling. It was fruitless. But he still fought.

It was then that he felt it… The pulling on his soul. It started in his toes, tingling like mad. Next his legs, and his arms, and other limbs. Like someone was pulling out all of the veins inside his body out through his mouth. It was odd - he could feel all of the "threads" or connections of his soul, though his whole body, being detected and yanked away, being sucked into the Dementor, being drawn out faster - leaving behind nothing but a cold and hollow feeling.

Then came a more horrifying feeling. Like being in two places at once. He could feel his physical body, the tingling, the cold… And then he could feel anther part of himself. A non-solid form of his thoughts and consciousness, an odd form of energy or life… The horrifying part? The parts were no longer together. His body stayed where it was, while his other self, his soul, was being taken away.

He panicked, or tried to, as he realized what it was, but it was far too late. His mind went fuzzy, then foggy, and then he almost like he was falling asleep. But somehow, it felt deeper and more definite. And then, as the last string detached itself from the back of his throat… Everything went black.

And his body, chains and all, fell to the ground.

Listless. Lifeless. Souless.

Ron sighed as he looked back at his older brother, running a hand through his hair.

"So, no one knows where he is being kept. No one knows when his trial is. No one knows if he's even FIT for trial. And everyone that is pushing for his return or release is being ignored, or punished?"

"You forgot 'And everyone that does know is lying,' but yes, that's about it." George said, inching closer to Charlie. Bill, who had one arm around his wife, sighed as well.

"So... WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL DO WE DO!" Ron yelled and his brothers all looked around at him. They were all thinking the same thing. It was high time that they got Harry the Hell out of wherever was. But the obvious issue was, they couldn't find him. Every Weasley, Order member, and D.A graduate had been working endlessly on finding the Boy-Who-Lived. But no one could find a trace of him. Not even his wand. It was beginning to look hopeless.

Charlie patted a stressed-looking George on the back. Ginny just sat alone at the breakfast table - a glass of pumpkin juice in her arms, as silent and solemn as she had ever been.

"Well, we need to do something useful, and we need to do it quick…" George said, looking over at the others with a determined look. "The longer he stays missing, the longer he stays in danger. We need to stop going through the open channels and start digging for dirt."

The morning owl flew in through the window and landed in front of Mrs. Weasley. It carried the newspaper and a few other letters. Mrs. Weasley stirred the scrambled eggs a few more times as she smiled weakly at the old owl.

"We've got tons on Umbridge. We should start with her." Ron offered, trying to get the ball rolling.

"Dawlish and Moody managed to get some contacts with Aurors' Office, as well as a few Ministry guys and Unspeakables. They'd be more then happy to help."

"McGonagall loves Harry. She'd be glad to help out. And she's Headmistress now, too." Ginny said with a hopeful look in her eyes.

It was then that Mrs. Weasley put down her wooden spoon, and took the eggs of the burner. She turned to the owl and took the paper from its claws.

Two seconds later, a horrified scream filled the kitchen, and the owl scrambled out of the window in panic.

The headline of the paper simply said: "Boy-Who-Lived; Kissed by Dementors."

* * *

><p>Many years later:<p>

The long-term treatment room of St. Mungos was quiet. Deathly quiet. More than likely because most of its inhabitants never moved. They were all laid, one by one in rows, against the wall. All with monitoring spells and healers buzzing around them from time to time. But none of them moved, unless they were moved intentionally by someone.

So when a flutter of wings was heard, and a black haired, blue-eyed man wearing a trenchcoat appeared in the middle of the room, it was no surprise that there was no reaction from any of the inhabitants. Blue, soul-piercing eyes looked around the room curiously. Searching and looking for something in particular. It was then that he started to walk. His tan coat swaying behind him. He walked past bed after bed, slowly glancing from side to side.

He stopped in the middle of the ward. His eyes fell on the form of a young man; deathly pale and unbelievably thin. He had high cheekbones, smooth skin, and behind a mess of unruly black hair, a lightning bolt scar. The man froze as he looked over the form. His eyes turning from searching to unbelievably sad in a moment of seconds.

"Harry James Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived and the Master of Death." The man said in a rough, grave voice.

"I am sorry for your… forced punishment. I am even more sorry that I have been forced to the position that I must now awaken you." The man said, as he moved forward. He gently took the hand of the bed-ridden man and held it in his own two hands. He continued to speak, both softly and kindly.

"But Lucifer has just been freed. And I cannot trust my brothers and sisters anymore. I need help. A companion. A great force of good to help me stop this plague of evil."

He placed Harry's hand back down, and brushed the unruly locks away from the scar that adorned his forehead.

"My name is Castiel. I'm an Angel of the Lord. I have come to restore you, and to set you free."

Seconds later, the sound of fluttering wings was heard again. And the Angel and the young man were gone.


	2. Sleeping Savior

Thank you, everyone for reviewing! And all the favs and Alerts, to. It really means a lot to me.

I just want to let you guys know that I am going on with the story, and that I am looking for a Beta! If you are interested in proof-reading for me, please send me a PM, with your E-mail. Thank you all very much!

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER TWO.<strong>

Castiel appeared as he always did. Swiftly and silently right into the middle of Bobby Singer's home. Dean jumped as he always did when the angel startled him. Sam seemed to be more taken aback by the fact that Castiel was carrying someone in his arms.

"Who is that?" Sam asked with a raised eyebrow, jumping up from his chair. "Is he alright?" he added as he walked over to Cas.

"No, he is not," Castiel stated in a matter-of-factly voice as he carried Harry over to the couch. Sam helped out by supporting and safely lowering his head. He then got his first good look at the person the angel had dragged in.

He had a young, arched face with high but soft cheekbones. His frame was thin and he looked weak. His hair was black and looked like it was clean, but uncared for in any other way. But oddest of all was his skin. It was pale as death. If it wasn't for his soft breathing, there would have been no sign that he was alive at all.

Dean walked over to them to assess the new arrival with a curious expression on his face. Castiel was treating him like he was going to break at any moment. Like he actually cared about him… But this was Cas. Cold, emotionless, Angel-of-the-Lord Cas. Right? Dean wondered.

"He's not an angel, is he?" Dean asked. "'Cause I don't know how many more of those dicks I can stand." Dean said bluntly, giving a sideways glance to Cas. "No offense..."

"None taken," Castiel replied nonchalantly. "But I can assure you, he is not an angel."

"What's wrong with him? He looks unconscious, but I don't see any sign of a fight," Sam asked carefully. Sam knew that Castiel was no longer able to heal people. Not since he had 'betrayed' heaven and was cut off from it's power. That was a sore spot for the angel, especially since Bobby had been gravely injured and stuck to a wheel chair. Their best bet would be getting the guy to hospital.

"His soul was forcefully ripped from him. There is no _physical_ damage." Dean and Sam both looked at Castiel with shock as he said this. Both for different reasons.

"You mean, somehow, someone just yanked his soul out of his body and left him?" Dean burst out.

"Not someone. Something. A Dementor. A dark creature akin to a Striga, only more like a Reaper. And no one left him, he was under the care of his people before I retrieved him." he explained.

"Whoa, whoa, wait. The guy no longer has a SOUL. Shouldn't we be a bit wary..." Sam stopped himself right there as all the three of them turned to look at Harry. He looked like a child sleeping peacefully. How dangerous could he possibly be?

"Never mind..."

"Nope."

"I do not think he poses a threat to anyone." Cas stated agreeably.

"So, why did you bring the soulless guy here?" Dean asked. "Are you going to Heal him?"

"I am going to return his soul to him, and awaken him. I will then attempt to convince him to join our cause and to help us in the fight against Lucifer."

"Wait..." Sam interrupted. "Didn't you say the thing that got him was like a Striga? Doesn't that mean that it kind of, umm... Ate his soul?"

Cas and Dean both turned to look at him as one and he raised an eyebrow at them.

"What?"

"The human soul is not something that can just be _digested,_ Sam."

"I knew that!" Sam mumbled, as Dean gave a weak chuckle. It wasn't everyday someone got something over Sam. He was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

"Okay, anyway. How is a guy who had his soul sucked out going to help us?"

Cas gave both of the brothers the 'Cas glare.' Which, coming from the emotionally stunted angel, actually looked like he was just highly annoyed. But both the brothers knew better. That look meant he was slowly edging his way to furious. Dean cleared his throat, while Sam just looked down and put his hands in his pockets.

"This 'Soulless guy' as you so call him, is Harry James Potter. One of the strongest users of magic on the planet. He has fought in two wars, and has more knowledge and experience than you could fathom. He is a fighter and a warrior but most importantly, a champion for the light. He WILL be of help to us."

"Okay, okay," Dean said, putting up his hands. "So the guy's got some mojo in him. All you had to say. Now, how do we put Humpty Dumpty back together again?"

Sam kept his mouth shut during this part of the conversation. He and Dean had just made amends over the whole 'letting the devil free' thing. Sam was still sore about it, and Dean was still hurt. So he had decided not to add any additional problems by voicing his thoughts. So far, all that 'Mojo' had done for them was set them back. He wasn't sure that this was the right way to go. Yes, Sam would help put the guy back together again. No one deserved to get their soul sucked out. Not someone who was a good person, anyway... But as far as getting magic involved into the mix again, he wasn't sure how much that would help.

"And with that matter, I require your assistance." Castiel replied after a moment, breaking Sam's chain of thoughts.

* * *

><p>Ron knew something was wrong the moment his office he got a call from St. Mungos. The only order was to send him, and only him, to the hospital right away. Why would anyone call an Auror to a St. Mungos if there wasn't a major problem? The feeling intensified when he arrived at the healers' desk, and saw more than five healers conversing hushed voices behind the desk. Their expressions seemed to be something between fear and wonder.<p>

Ron felt something cold drop into his stomach when one of the healers pointed to the long-term ward. Harry's ward. His footsteps steadily grew faster and faster and his mind started running wild.

_Harry's ward.. The panicked healers.. The person in charge asking for him by name…_

What had they done to him now? **What had they done to Harry?!**

Ron forced his way into the ward, seeing half a dozen healers standing around Harry's bed.

Harry's EMPTY bed.

Harry had been in the same place in the ward for the past 2 months. He was rarely moved, if at all. Ron looked at the Healer to the left-side of Harry's bed; it was still the same blonde woman. He looked to the right. Still the same dusty-haired old man.

His eyes went to Harry's bed again and he took in the unruly covers and misplaced sheets.

It was almost as if Harry had just... Woken up and walked away.

Suddenly, it clicked.

"Oh, bloody Hell…"

* * *

><p>Castiel carefully placed the three items on the table in front of Bobby, Sam and Dean. The three hunters looked at the objects with caution.<p>

"These are all that we need to awaken him." Cas said, as he took the fourth and last seat at the table. The three hunters looked at him intently.

"The legend goes back to the middle ages. There were three, very powerful magical objects scattered oddly across Wizarding Britain. A wand, made of an unknown wood and unknown core. They called it the Wand of Destiny. It was said that the wand was unbeatable, and gave its owner unimaginable powers. Hand-crafted by Death himself," Cas said, pointing to the stick on the table.

"Then, a ring. Jeweled and untarnished through time. They called it the Ring of Death, once again, made by Death himself. The owner had complete control over the dead and the dying." Cas said, pointing to the second item. A ring that had an odd symbol on it. A vertical line, a circle, and a triangle, all put together.

"And lastly, an Invisibility Cloak. Made from Death's own robe. It is said the cloak could hide the person wearing it from anyone and anything, even Death himself." Cas said, motioning to the last item. A silvery, flowing cloak.

"These objects are connected to each other, and to Harry in their own ways. Even when kept apart, they were strong. Each gave the owner a powerful advantage over any other wizard. But when put together, they are powerful beyond imagination, and make the owner completely invincible: The Master of Death."

"Right... Nothing risky about that at all. Does anyone else see the big red warning signs?" said Bobby, finally speaking.

"Harry is a noble man. He will awaken and join our fight, or he will return to his slumber."

"So, you're saying, we've got three of these cursed objects. And we're just going hand them over to the soulless-guy here, hope he wakes up and doesn't go nuts and kill us all, or worse, join Lucifer?"

"He won't. And for your information, he was the Master of Death before he was unjustly punished. These items are already rightfully his. We are just allowing his own magic and powers to put him to back together."

Dean got up and turned to directly face Cas. "Look, I get it. You like this guy. He did some good stuff, and was on the right side once. But why risk it? We got the items. Let's just use them and let the soulless zombie sleep."

"That won't be possible." Cas replied in an agitated tone.

"Why not?"

"Because you are not wizards, Dean." Castiel snapped. "In order to use any of these items, one must be born blessed with magical power."

"Wait, what? Blessed with magical powers? I thought he was just a he-witch. What is he, a psychic?" Dean inquired.

"Wizards are different from the witches you have encountered over the years." Cas answered. "Those witches did not possess any real magical powers. All their so-called abilities came either from making Crossroad Deals, demonic powers, or by using Wiccan charms. The Wizarding world, where Harry comes from, has a different type of magic. Their world exists within ours, yet most of your people can not see it, because the Wizarding people have been living concealed from you for years. And their abilities are much more powerful."

"I don't get it," Sam broke in. "He's more powerful than a witch? How does that him any safer?"

Bobby, on the other hand, knew something else was up. The older, wiser hunter had been quietly observing the way Cas had been acting since he'd returned, and knew that there was something more to this than he was letting on.

"You idjit." Bobby burst out. "You say you know this boy won't hurt nobody. But how do WE know that's true?"

"You have my word." said Cas. "Harry would never harm an innocent person. He doesn't have it in him."

"And how do YOU know that!?" yelled Dean.

"Because it is his destiny to save people!" yelled Cas, finally snapping. "Be it hundreds, thousands, or in this case, millions. It is so engraved in his being, that he couldn't do the opposite, even if he tried. It is impossible for him to turn evil in any way."

"It's impossible for him to do anything evil? EVER? How?" Dean retorted.

"Because..." Cas sighed. "Do you remember Chuck? The prophet?"

Sam groaned. "How can we forget him? I still haven't forgiven him for the whole Becky thing."

"Oh, God dammit, don't tell me this guy is another one… If it's not another angel, it has to be another prophet. What the hell!" Dean injected rudely.

"Harry is much more important then a prophet." Cas snapped again, silencing Sam and Dean. Bobby leaned back in his wheelchair. How the heck could this guy be more important then a Prophet?

"Well, this ought to be fun…" He commented dryly.

"He's a savior," Cas said, looking at all of them in turn. "He's the savior of the entire Wizarding world."


	3. Death Awake

Thank you everyone for the wonderful reviews, and sorry for being so late! I've been working over-nights the past few weeks, and as everyone knows, those are not fun.

I've also posted the first chapter of a new story. A Harry potter/Dark knight crossover called 'Harry Potter and the patients of Arkham.' I think you guys are going to like it! It's mostly Joker/Harley but I've also got a pairing for Harry.

Also, I made a group of one-shots called the "Supernatural Rejection Letters." It's a group of Humorous and Sad letters from Harry and others to Hogwarts, refusing his place at Hogwarts. There are even a few up there from the readers! Hope you enjoy!

Now, ON TO THE STORY!

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER THREE<br>**

The next few moments were met with silence.

"Wow, Cas. Any other bombshells you'd like to drop?" Dean snapped sarcastically.

"So you're saying that the guy over there… Is like... Jesus?" said Sam slowly.

"Far from…" Castiel turned and looked at Sam. "Jesus, was a prophet and a savior, and a messiah. Harry is just a savior."

"Oh, well, that just makes everything better…" Bobby quipped.

"There have been many prophets over history, to lead people in times of great need and injustice. The oracle of Delphi, Muhammad, Virginia of Rome, and more. Similarly, there have also been saviors. People like the Joan of Arc, Martin Luther King, and Mahatma Gandhi. Humans born to save their people and countries, or deliver them from persecution and bondage. Harry is the savior of his world and his people."

"If this guy is so powerful and important to a bunch of wizards, then how did he end up as an unconscious, soulless slab of MEAT?" Dean burst out. "Shouldn't he have been able to save himself? Since he obviously couldn't, how the Hell is he going to help us fight Lucifer?"

Castiel, for the first time, glared at Dean with true anger shining in his eyes. Dean simply blinked at him.

"Dean," Sam said. "THINK about it. Think about the people he just listed." Dean stilled for a moment as he tried to think back to the people Cas had mentioned.

"Well, Joan of Arc was burned as a witch..." Bobby stated, trying to be helpful.

"Martin Luther King Jr. was shot and killed in front of his friends." Sam continued. "And Harry had his soul removed… ALL of their lives, every one of them, ended tragically."

"And Gandhi, your idol, was killed by one of the very people he was trying to give freedom to..." Dean replied, as his shoulders slumped. Even though he had been called it a million times before, at this moment he really felt like he was a jerk.

"Adequately accurate." Castiel said, and then pointed to the three Hallows that rested on the table. "Can I count on your approval of this, now?"

After the hunters nodded at him, Cas got up and carefully placed the ring on Harry's finger, and then the wand in his other hand.

He looked at the three hunters as he began to cover the body with the invisibility cloak. Turned inside-out so it wouldn't cause Harry to disappear on them.

"You may want to brace yourselves." Castiel warned them, and then flung the remainder of the cloak over Harry and began to speak in Enochian.

A moment later, there was a flash of bright, white light that filled the entire room.

* * *

><p>Harry was floating.<p>

Was he still, or was he moving?

There were other things moving around him.

It was dark… or was it light?

Was he in a small space or an infinite plane? He couldn't tell.

But he knew was there, and he was floating. Or was he drifting?. He couldn't feel it anyway, it was so relaxing. He didn't have a single care in the world.

Not that he could remember. How long had he been here?

He really didn't care. He wasn't sure time even time mattered here.

But for a fleeting second, he wondered. Days? Minutes? Hours? Decades?

The thought rolled off him after a moment as well, to become just as forgotten as all the other thoughts he had during his time here. He had no worries, he had no cares… from time to time he only wondered, and the thoughts escaped him just as fast as they had come. Hardly anything caught his attention for more then a second or two.

So it was odd when a silver cord of light suddenly caught his attention. He looked at it for a moment. It was as thin as yarn, but looked like it was braided together from thin hair-like threads. He pondered about it for another second, before the cord wrapped itself around him.

If he would have been able to feel panic at the moment, he would have. All he was aware about was a small feeling of something. A feeling of him being aware of himself. A feeling that gradually began to intensify.

* * *

><p>Dean watched the shaking form on the couch with caution, as he looked over to Sam.<p>

"I still think we should have asked how we could kill him before we woke him up…"

"Cas told us he's safe, Dean. What more could you want?" Sam argued as he looked to Bobby for support. Bobby just gave a tight-lipped look, and a shrug. Sam's jaw dropped.

"What? You agree with him?"

Bobby looked at the figure their angel was standing over. He then looked over to Sam with guilty eyes and shrugged again. Sam shot him and Dean his famous 'Bitch-face', and then turned back to look at Cas.

Harry's body was now shaking uncontrollably. Dean placed his hand inside his jacket and fingered the handle of the knife. It was purely on instinct alone, but it made him feel better since this 'Master of Death' was probably going to wake up soon...

* * *

><p>Blackness was all around him as he was tightly wound in his own skin. His thoughts suddenly becoming more aware; his mind suddenly filled with voices…<p>

He was frozen in bed. Unable to move. People coming in and out of a room… His room? Someone holding his hand was crying.

"Harry… I can't believe they would do this to you… But I promise.. I'll find who did it, and I'll make them pay."

Hermione's voice.

"I can't take much more of this…" said another familiar female voice. "Hermoine says I should stop seeing you. That I should quit tormenting myself. But I just can't... I can't just leave you here alone…"

Ginny. His love. She kissed him gently on the forehead. "I'll try to get Ron to see you. He's… He's just too angry at the moment. I don't think he's ready."

Another voice. Molly? Then George. "Mum's having a hard time with this. First Fred, now you… At least I've still got the shop, but with Ginny been moving out… Not sure how she's going to make it through. She's trying to be strong about it, but I know it's killing her..."

Ron, screaming angrily. "How the Hell could they, Harry? After everything you've done. Everything we've done. IT'S NOT RIGHT!" he screamed. Then started crying. Ron? Crying? "It's just not right…. It shouldn't have happened... Not to you…"

"I know me and Ron got married only a few months ago, but I'm already pregnant at 21!" Hermione again. "I should have known it was going to happen, but… It was still a shock." She said, as she gently brushed his hair off his forehead. "We were going to name him Hugo… But Ginny came up with a better idea. We're going to name him Harry..."

"Neville wants me to marry him." Ginny, said. "Hermione says that I should. That I need to quit living like this. She thinks it's destroying me…"

Another voice... Kingsley.

"We got your name cleared… but the damage is done… I know it doesn't mean much; having you… Having you like this… But at least you will be known for the hero you were…"

Dozens of other voices… Dennis Creevey, members of the Order, every member of the Weasleys, years of pain, of screams and crying and regret. Of caring and well wishes…. But the most painful…

"Please, Harry… Just wake up…. Please! Show me any sign that you're still there.. And I won't marry him… I was never going to, I swear… Just… something... anything…"

"She's pregnant now, Harry... I think Ginny is finally happy now. I know you would hate me for it if you were still here… But.. She's smiling again, Harry. Really smiling…"

Years of memories incorporated themselves into his mind in a matter of moments. Years of being trapped, of being unable to move his body and speak to his loved ones, of the pain and suffering of those he loved coming to see him… It was all coming back to him. They were in so much pain… He was in so much pain… So he did the only thing he was finally aware of being able to do at the moment.

He let out a gut-wrenching scream.

Sam and Dean both jumped back in shock and Bobby even sat up straight in his wheelchair as the most painful, harrowing scream came from Harry. A scream of pure grief, pain, and heartbreak.

The same scream that Dean had heard his father make after he couldn't deny his mother's death anymore.

The same scream that Sam made when Jess had died…

The same scream that Bobby had made after killing his wife…

The three hunters were shaken to their core. They were expecting darkness. Evil. The room to go black and Reapers to appear. Anything but this.

* * *

><p>"It's all right…"<p>

Harry didn't recognise this voice. But he was aware that he existed. And that his own face was wet.

"You are safe..."

Harry looked into the sad but reassuring blue eyes, felt something touch his forehead, and then passed out.

"I will restore you. I promise."


	4. Interlude 1 Angels and clocks

**CHAPTER FOUR  
><strong>

Harry opened his eyes slowly as he became more aware. His body felt loose and stringy. His mouth was dry, and his eyes wet. He remembered he had been screaming just before a calming voice had spoken to him. He remembered crying. He had then felt two fingers touch his forehead… then he was waking up. He had screamed and cried himself to sleep. How embarrassing did that sound? But he couldn't bring himself to care.

He was back. Or alive, at least... but he had lost everything.

He pulled his father's cloak closer to him, like a security blanket. He tried to set aside his emotions and let his mind focus on the facts.

God knew how many years had passed...

Most of his friends were married and had children.

The Ministry had damned him, but then, also cleared his name.

And his soul had been lost in Limbo the entire time.

What a bloody MESS. He sighed as he tried to sit up... and then slowly sat himself back down with a shocked look on his face. He looked down at his body, and tried to figure out what he had just felt.

For a moment he wasn't sure that he was in his own body... It didn't feel familiar to him. His muscles, his limbs, his own skin... It all felt... new.

He zeroed in at his knobbly knees and his scars, to assure himself that this was his body... But nothing else was like he remembered. He was nothing now but skin and bone. Even the shape of his hips and arms were foreign to him... even his skin. It was so pale that Harry could follow the blue lines of his veins from his shoulder to his finger tips... Merlin, it was ghastly.

Harry sighed as he realized he would somehow have to get used to his body.

He plopped his head back down on his make-shift pillow as he wondered just how long that would take... Weeks, for sure, depending on the state he was in... A single week if he was lucky.

No time like the present. He started by flexing and stretching his feet... first, by themselves. The left first, and then the right. Then both feet together. He was surprised at how easy the limbs followed his command... but still, it was obvious they were not used to working on their own.

He heard voices coming from the room beside him, and he turned his head in that direction to listen. His neck was so stiff and stringy that he couldn't hold it there for long... It protested violently against the action from the years of misuse.

But he couldn't make out the words anyway, so he just ignored it. He carefully added moving his bone-dry jaw along with the process of moving his feet. He had no doubt that the people in the other room would eventually want to talk... and he couldn't very well do that without the use of his jaw, could he?

* * *

><p><em>How is it that ONE guy could cause such a stir?<em> Dean thought as he downed another shot of whiskey. _First, we were all willing to toast this guy... Now Bobby and Sam are acting like they want to freaking adopt him. And I don't even want to know what was going through Cas's mind._

Cas had been.. weird. Ever since Harry had shown up in his arms, he had seemed glued to him. Cas had held him, almost freaking hugged him, maybe even whispered something in his ear, and looked about ready for murder every time Dean had tried to insult him. And the weird thing was that Cas didn't even seem to notice he was doing it! He seemed oblivious to his own actions.

But this was Cas after all, maybe that last bit wasn't so weird...

He sighed to himself as he looked out to where the new guy was resting. Cas had put him into a state of deep sleep after he'd woken up. The guy looked wrecked. Even Dean had to admit, he felt sorry for the guy.

But how could Dean trust him? He had trusted Gordon. He trusted Ruby... Hell, he had even trusted Cas. And they had all come back to bite him in the arse. Gordon was a psycho, Ruby was a traitor, and Cas... Well, Cas came back to them. But that didn't change the fact that he had still freed Sam, and in doing so, freed Lucifer.

Dean was still hurt over that. Gordon and Ruby, he wasn't that surprised. But Cas? That was a nasty knock.

It was worse, because Dean had trusted the angel. Started to rely on him. Then BANG. Back-stabbed.

Dean wasn't ready to trust this guy. Even if Sam and Bobby were ready to jump on the Harry bandwagon. He would keep his head. He would watch this guy, and wait and see. This time, he would wait until the guy proved himself completely. Until then, no.

Until then, Dean wasn't going to let someone else betray them... Again.

No matter what.

* * *

><p>He had enough time. Castiel had calculated how long it would take for Harry to wake up for the second time, and it was just about up. He was glad, because now that he had awaken him, it was time to start restoring him to his former self and quit overthinking about things.<p>

They would have to talk to him and get Harry to agree to joining them first, but Castiel knew that would be no problem. Harry would not be returning to his unnatural sleep. As a champion of the light, Harry would join them. It was not in him to refuse. He would be a great asset and a winning warrior in this battle. Castiel felt his heart soar at the thought of fighting at Harry's side.

Things would change for "Team Free Will" now. Lucifer and Micheal would never know what hit them.

Cas turned to the other three men.

"Harry will be awake by now. We should join him and inform him of the situation. He will not be pleased to be kept in the dark for any amount of time."

Sam was already at the door. Bobby rolled his eyes, and he and Dean followed at a slower pace. Castiel trailed at the end. _Yes,_ Castiel thought. _A Fallen, A Savior, and a Vessel from ether side... If anyone is going to unseat Heaven and re-open the prison of Hell, it will be the four of us._

And for the first time since Lucifer had risen, Castiel felt hope.

Ron apparated to the Burrow. His hair a mess, his uniform disordered, and his face long and sullen. All and all, he looked horribly harassed.

NOTHING. Hours of searching St. Mungos, a dozen or so Aurors, and a meeting with the current Minister of Magic, and still, NOTHING. They hadn't found Harry's body, or had any idea who had taken him, or any clue as to how they had gotten in or out of the ward without being seen.

He had never been more furious in his life. Not just at the healers for not watching Harry close enough, the Aurors, Magical Law Enforcement and others for not finding any leads, the Minister for being a right foul git, but also at himself.

Harry had been helpless... and Ron hadn't been there for him. The cold stab of failure hurt his heart. He sighed as he walked to the front door, not knowing at all what he was going to say to his family. His wife, his mother, his son... Hell, his SISTER.

But he didn't have say anything. As soon as he opened the door, he was startled by screams and a bunch of arms that grabbed him and pulled him inside. His mind raced. But he should have expected his... he deserved to be punished for not being able to save Harry and his family had every right to be angry at him.

But then he realised: they weren't attacking him. He was being yanked, but he was also being hugged. His vision was a blur as they pulled him into the kitchen. His eyes went wide as he finally saw Hermione. His mum, George, and Fleur were all yelling incomprehensibly. Half-laughing, half-crying.

The whole family seemed to be there, and they all seemed to be in hysterics. He looked at all of them and tried to catch what they were saying... and then he caught the word "clock" being repeated again and again.

He turned around and looked at the family clock in the kitchen. His heart jumped into his mouth as he noticed Harry's clock-hand had moved... For the first time since that horrible morning when his mother's scream had filled the house, Harry's clock-hand had moved...

Ron couldn't help himself. He grabbed his wife in his arms, and joined in the hysterics.

Because the clock-hand now pointed at "Safe."


End file.
